Author's Note: Most of this story was written before I'd seen the season finale. There is some subject matter involving a child's death that might be distressing to some readers.

This was just wrong, Alex Drake realised as she shifted on the bed and tried to get comfortable; a task that was in no way helped by the man who was snoring softly next to her. She wished that she'd taken him up on his offer to leave rather than insisting that he stayed the night. The sex had been nice but she was starting to realise that she didn't actually want him to share her bed.

'What the hell is wrong with me?' Alex found herself wondering.

Evan was good looking and she was definitely attracted to him. He'd been kind, gentle, considerate and not what she needed right now. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she almost felt like she'd slept with her brother. Part of her wanted to leave the bed and crash on the sofa, but she was scared of what he might. Whatever came of this liaison Alex knew that she needed Evan. He was a link with home and with Molly.

"I'm overanalysing this," she muttered not realising that she had spoken aloud.

"What?" Evan's sleepy voice asked as he opened his eyes and smiled.

"Nothing, go back to sleep."

"I don't know… I think I might have a better idea."

He reached for her, and it was all Alex could do to stop herself shrinking away. She was almost relieved when someone started banging on the door to the flat.

"I'll get it," she said, scrambling out of bed and pulling on a robe.

Alex had an inkling as to who was outside and if she didn't answer the door right now her visitor would just break it down. And she didn't want him to do that, not whilst Evan was in her bed.

"Haven't you heard of the phone, Hunt," she grumbled as she opened the door.

"No point, I was in the neighbourhood," he replied as he pushed his way past her and into the flat. He plonked himself down on the sofa and folded his hands behind his head. Noticing the slight leer on his face, Alex pulled her robe a little tighter about her body.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"You to put some clothes on and do some bloody work. We got a call, there's a body just been fished out of the Thames."

"Give me a minute."

She would never have cast Gene Hunt in the role of an angel but right now it felt like he was heaven sent. Work was the perfect excuse to escape Evan… at least for a little while. He was sitting up in bed when she got back to the bedroom, obviously having heard every word of the conversation.

"Do you have to go?" he asked as he watched Alex pull on her clothes.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Bolly! Get your skinny arse down to the Quattro pronto or I'll …"

Hunt was standing in the entrance to the bedroom but if he was surprised or jealous, he hid it well.

"Another notch on the bedpost," he sneered.

"You can't talk to her like that!" Evan protested grabbing a sheet to preserve his modesty.

"Who says I was talking to her?"

The two men were sizing each other up. Evan eyes were blazing with anger whilst Hunt appeared almost calm, as if he knew that he'd always have the upper hand. In this case he was probably right. He could kill Evan with testosterone alone.

"I'm ready," Alex interrupted before Hunt could even think about throwing the first punch

"There's stuff in the fridge Evan, take whatever you want," she went on.

"I think he's already had it," Hunt grinned, but it wasn't a pleasant expression.

Trying her best to appear calm, Alex turned on her heel and led the way out of the flat. Keeping her temper in front of Evan was one thing, but she felt no such restrictions where Hunt was concerned. She was bloody furious, she just didn't know if it was with him… or with her subconscious mind. She said nothing as she sat in that damn car, putting all her energy into willing him to scratch the paint work.

"Oh don't worry, Bols," he said finally, "Southern nancy gay boy will still be there when you get back. He looks the type. You can probably get another couple of rounds in before breakfast."

"Will you just stop!" Alex exploded, slapping her hand on the dashboard.

To her complete surprise, he did and the car screeched to a halt with a squeal of breaks and the stench of burning rubber.

"You don't like him, big deal! This is my fantasy and I will run it the way I please," she shouted at him.

Hunt's fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

"No, I don't like him," he admitted, but Alex was too incensed to recognise the sincerity in his tone.

"Why? Because of what he does? Because he defends the innocent?"

"Because he was shagging another man's wife!"

"Oh come on Gene. I'm thinking pot kettle black here."

"I may look, I may touch, I may snog a few but I never shagged anyone's wife and I never cheated on my own."

"Then why did she leave you?"

He didn't reply. Crunching the gears, he shoved the Quattro into first in preparation to move off again but Alex stopped him. She wanted this over once and for all. Somehow, she had to persuade her psyche to stop playing these games.

"I don't think this is about Evan," she snarled. "I think this is about wanting something you can't have."

Before Hunt had a chance to react, she slipped out of her seat, straddling his lap and bringing her face close to his.

"Let's just get it out of the way shall we? Do it right here, right now," she hissed.

"I don't think so," he replied.

She could feel his breath on her lips. The scent of whiskey and cigarettes only serving to heighten her frustration.

"Come on Guv, doesn't the Gene Genie want to come out to play?"

Her fingers reached for the belt of his trousers but Hunt grabbed her wrist. With a move she hadn't quite anticipated he managed to push her backwards until she was sprawled across the passenger seat, his weight pressing lightly down on her.

"If and when I decide to have you, it will not be in the front seat of my car!" he snarled.

"You're so sure of that?" Alex spat back.

"Of course I am. These seats are a bugger to clean."

A2A2A2A2

"Sooner or later I'm going to accept one of these offers you keep making. Trust me you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

Alex, doing her best to ignore him, found herself hanging back as she followed Hunt across the waste ground towards the river. Truth be told, she felt a little embarrassed by her behaviour. This was the second time she'd thrown herself at him… and the second time that he'd turned her down. What exactly had she been trying to achieve? It wasn't as if she actually wanted him to take her up on her offer… did she? But Hunt was right about one thing, this wasn't the time. Right here and now she had a job to do.

"What have we got?" she asked as she reached the huddle of people on the bank of the Thames.

Chris was staring steadfastly at something on the far side of the water and even Ray looked slightly sick. It was then that Alex noticed that the shrouded body was small… far too small to be an adult.

"Brace yourself," Hunt said.

He drew back the plastic sheeting, giving Alex a glimpse of the child's face.

"Molly!" she gasped, her hands flying to her face as she tried to stem the instant and almost overwhelming sense of nausea. She clutched at the nearest person, willing them to have the presence of mind to keep her upright.

"You all right ma'am?" Chris asked, responding to her fierce grip on his arm.

"You know her?" Ray asked.

Somehow, Alex forced herself to take another look. The corpse was of the right age, the right hair colour, but it wasn't her daughter.

"No," she replied, "no, I don't."

Letting go of Chris, she walked a short distance away, hoping to find somewhere that she could throw up in private. For a second she had seen Molly's face and lived a mother's worst nightmare. Wrapping her arms about herself, Alex tried and failed to stop her body shaking. She didn't even want to contemplate the meaning behind the vision.

"Treat this one gently boys," Gene Hunt's voice came to her on the night breeze.

She heard footsteps approaching but she steadfastly refused to turn. Alex didn't want anyone to see her this shaken. Someone placed a heavy coat about her shoulders and she pulled it close, grateful for the extra warmth.

"You all right Bols?" he asked.

"I just need a minute," she replied.

"This shouldn't take long. Once we've sealed the crime scene I'll take you home."

"I'll be fine, really."

"I know, but we won't find much in the dark. We'll come back later."

His rough hand patted her shoulder before she heard him move away. Slipping her arms into the sleeves of the coat, Alex followed.

Despite Hunt's reassurance, the Sun was rising by the time they returned to the Quattro. Shock and reaction were setting in and it was all Alex could do to keep her eyes open. She didn't want to sleep just yet, not with the image of her dead child still uppermost in her mind. Gene Hunt's car wasn't the place to have nightmares. She needed to be alone in her own bed.

"Damn," she swore softly to herself.

"What?" Hunt asked.

"I forgot about Evan."

She was sure that he would say all the right things but sympathy wasn't what she wanted.

"I'll kick him out on his poncy backside."

The offer was a genuine one, but Alex shook her head.

"You'd enjoy it too much," she said with a small chuckle.

Even so, she was relieved to find that Evan's car was no longer parked outside the flat. Taking a deep breath, Alex got out of the Quattro. There was a downside to being alone. She didn't quite know what vision would be waiting for her.

"Bolly?" Hunt questioned, noticing her hesitation.

His hand twitched towards hers and for a moment, she thought he was going to hold it.

"Just say the word. I can take you off the investigation."

"No."

"Good. See you later."

Taking herself out of this would be too easy, Alex realised as she slowly climbed the stairs to her flat. Everything here was important. Anything here could be her ticket back home. Besides, if Hunt was going to nail the scum who did this, Alex wanted be there and she'd probably join him when it came to giving the bastard a good kicking.

Her flat was mercifully empty. Evan had left a note on the coffee table, asking her to call him but Alex wasn't going to do that right now. Walking to the window, she looked out onto the street to watch the almighty Quattro pulling away. She still had Hunt's coat on, she realised.

Alex needed to sleep, but the sight of the rumpled sheets on the bed made her distinctly uncomfortable and she didn't have the energy to change them. Instead, she lay down on the sofa and huddled under Hunt's coat she closed her eyes.

A2A2A2A2

The gathering in Luigi's that night was very subdued. Alex found herself sitting on her own in a corner, relentlessly reviewing the details of the case. She'd spent most of the day at the crime scene, going over it again and again in the hopes of finding some miniscule clue. Reluctantly, she had come to the conclusion that the body had been dumped further upstream. They would widen the search tomorrow.

Then there had been the meeting with the girl's mother. Alex didn't think she'd ever forget the woman's screams.

And all day she had been beset with visions of her own little girl, of Molly.

Alex didn't know how much longer she could cope with this. Everyone had their breaking point and she felt like she was perilously close to hers.

A glass appeared in front of her and someone filled it with wine. She hadn't had a drink all night, figuring that she needed to keep a clear head but right now pure exhaustion was blurring the words that she was trying to read. It was time to give in. She packed the files into her bag. Taking a sip of the deep red liquid, she looked around the restaurant wondering when everyone else had gone home.

Hunt was sat at the bar, scotch glass in his hand, watching her.

"You look like shit," he said. "More jam tart than posh tart."

Picking up her glass, Alex moved to join him. There didn't seem to be any point in responding to his comment. She was still wearing the clothes that she had flung on last night, her hair was unwashed and her make-up smudged. Looking at herself in the mirror behind the bar Alex realised that she wasn't a pretty sight.

"It's been a long day," she said.

"That it has…"

"About earlier, in the car… "

"What about it?"

"I just wanted to apologise. I was completely out of order."

"Yes you were. Just remember that next time I might not be quite so forgiving."

His words sounded more like a promise than a threat.

"You getting anywhere with that stuff?" he went on, indicating the files she had shoved in her handbag.

"No. I don't know how I'm going to face her mother if..."

She held out her glass and Hunt topped it up. Hoping for a quick resolution had been wishful thinking, Alex knew that, but she still felt as if she'd failed in some way. Tomorrow they would start again, reading files, taking statements, going over the ground… She couldn’t let this case go unsolved. Somewhere out there a woman was crying herself to sleep over a daughter who would never grow up.

And it could have been Molly.

Alex would never forget the bastard who had held a gun to her little girl's head. Or forgive herself for putting her daughter in danger.

"The girl … she looked like Molly," she said, quietly.

She didn't know why she was talking about this or why she had chosen Gene Hunt to confide in.

"I haven't seen her for months and I miss her so much."

"Where is she?" he asked.

"With a friend."

"Then she's safe."

"Yeah, yeah she is."

"Good."

"That's why I have to get home, Gene. I have to see her again."

He drained his glass seeming uncomfortable with the turn their conversation had taken. Alex couldn't help smiling to herself. He could face down any number of armed thugs but give him a woman on the verge of tears and he was completely out of his depth. The realisation should have made her feel powerful but it didn't. She was too tired and she couldn't stop the tears falling. She scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to hide her weakness from her drinking companion, but Hunt wasn't so easily fooled. The arms that held her were as awkward as his attempts to stroke her hair. For the moment, Alex didn't care. This world was so crazy, so mixed up that she needed to take comfort where she found it.

Eventually, there were no more tears and she pulled away from him a little.

"Sorry," she said.

Using his thumb, he wiped the last tear from her cheek.

"I'll send you the dry cleaning bill."

His hand was still resting on her cheek and instinctively, Alex found herself leaning towards him… that was until a subtle cough told her that they weren't actually alone.

"Evan!" Alex gasped, wriggling her way free of Hunt's arms.

"You didn't call. I was worried," Evan said.

"I've been busy… work."

"Work?"

His eyes flicked towards her face and then Hunt's. For a second he seemed angry, and then his features softened as he recognised the distress in her eyes.

"Alex is everything … I mean are you okay?" he asked.

He was being sweet, if he had arrived five minutes earlier Alex knew that it would have been his shirt that she would have been soaking. She glanced at Hunt, who was in the process of picking up his coat.

"Right… I'll see you at work tomorrow," was all he said as he made for the door.

A2A2A2A2

Alex rarely felt blind hatred towards anyone. She had been trained to analyse people to try and understand the reasons behind their actions, but in this particular case, she found that she really didn't care. She wanted to hang this man up by his testicles. He'd denied the charges, and somehow the refusal to accept what he'd done only fuelled her anger. And he was guilty, she'd never been so sure of anything in her life. When he grinned at her, she struck out without thinking and nearly broke a knuckle on his jaw.

As he fell from his chair, Alex found herself perfectly willing to shove her stiletto heel through his throat. Chris stopped her, bundling her out of the interview room before she could hit the man again. Finding herself in the concrete corridor, she hit the wall in frustration.

"Shit," she swore.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Chris apologised.

He looked nervous, as if he'd done something wrong.

"It's … it's okay," Alex managed to reply, cradling her bruised hand. "Pull the records on all child disappearances in the area. This might not be his first."

"Ma'am?"

"I want him to go away for a very long time."

Returning to her desk, she sank into her chair and let her head fall into her hands.

"Welcome to the dark side," Gene Hunt's voice said as he tossed a packet of frozen peas onto her desk. Gratefully, she wrapped his offering around her sore knuckles.

"Good thing you hit like a girl," he added. "Otherwise you might have done yourself some damage."

Considering that he had whined like a child the last time she had hit him, Alex chose to ignore his comment. The truth was that she was starting to get annoyed with herself for losing control. She had always considered herself above that kind of display. And the worst thing was that she wasn't even sorry.

"You should have waited for me. I'd have held your coat."

"The bastard deserved worse," she snapped.

"He'll get a lifetime's worth if I have any say in the matter. There's a couple of screws in Brixton who owe me a favour."

His voice faded away making Alex look up and across the office. Through the windows, she could see Evan… and she had little doubt who he was here to defend. Pushing past Hunt, she strode into the corridor. Evan stopped and smiled but she was in no mood to be seduced by his charm.

"You once told me that everyone deserves to have someone fighting their corner… whether they're guilty or not?" she threw his words back at him.

"I don't understand."

"You're wrong."

"I'm sorry Alex but you're not making any sense."

Her hand was throbbing, there were tears in her eyes. She wasn't being rational, but she knew that if Evan was defending him then there was a chance that the man would get a lighter sentence… or might even walk free. Evan was just doing his job, but at that moment, Alex hated him for it.

"He killed a child. He doesn't deserve anyone's help and he doesn't deserve redemption."

Evan stepped closer to her, dropping his voice,

"DI Drake, I don't think this is the time or the place for this discussion."

"You're right... of course you are."

But her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Alex…"

"Don't!"

Walking away was more difficult than she expected it to be. Evan was her link with her mother, with her future and she wanted to hold onto that with every fibre of her being. But she couldn't… she just couldn't.

All eyes were on her as she walked back to her desk. She wanted to go home, somewhere she could just scream at the walls and no one would be there to pass judgement.

"Here you go ma'am, it'll make you feel better," Shaz said, pushing a cup of tea into her hand.

Alex sipped the hot drink, gratefully. The tea was laced with something and judging by the nervous expression on Shaz's face, Alex guessed that it was the Guv's whiskey.

And given the way Hunt was glaring in her direction he knew exactly where his single malt had gone.

Alex had never believed herself to be the kind of officer who would rely on alcohol to get her through the day, but it was definitely helping now. Blurring the edges, but it did nothing to numb her pain. Keeping her head down and pretending to work was the best way to get through this. She wasn't fit to be around other people right now.

For once, Alex was glad to be stuck in 1981. No e-mail, no texts, no voice mail... it was possible to be incommunicado here just by going home and closing the door. Unlike Hunt, Evan wasn't the type of man to break that door down.

Watching the clock, she found herself counting down the minutes until she could get out of here. She was going to get drunk and then she was going to sleep... and pray once more that she'd wake up in 2008.

A2A2A2A

Several hours and a bottle of Chianti later, Alex Drake couldn't quite work out how she'd managed to get herself into her current position. She could blame the wine, or the fact that she hadn't had much to eat, but she knew that she wasn't drunk. Not really. So there had to be some other reason why she was sprawled on the floor of her flat her back pressed to her DCI's chest, his legs stretched either side of hers, both of them leaning against the sofa.

She was talking about Molly, telling him all of the intimate details that she'd never shared with anyone. It felt good to talk about her, to hear him chuckle when she described some of Molly's more memorable adventures.

"What about her Dad?" he asked at one point.

"In Canada, with is girlfriend. He didn't even send her a birthday present."

"Git."

Alex shook her head as she took a sip of her wine. They had been young… far too young Not that she would give up Molly for anything, but sometimes she wondered.

"Her godfather brought her a Blackberry," she went on.

"What for… to make a bloody crumble?"

Alex couldn't help laughing.

"That's what I said."

She shifted, pressing the side of her face to his chest so she could listen to the beat of his heart. It still amazed her that this fantasy was so real.

"Bolls?" his voice sounded like it was coming from a distance. "Oi… Bolly knickers!"

He managed to rouse her from the edge of sleep that had been elusive for so long. She slapped him gently on the chest, willing him to shut up and let her be, but he ignored her gesture. Grabbing her under the arms, he pushed her off of him.

"You can't sleep there. Come on, up you get."

"Why you Gene Hunt?" she heard herself ask as he led her through to the bedroom.

"I'm wondering the same thing. Sometimes, you are more trouble than you're worth."

He was trying to be sarcastic, but Alex could hear a hint of softness in his tone. At his request, she sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked her boots off.

"Get in," he told her.

Alex did as she was asked, letting him tuck the duvet around her shoulders. For once, she felt no need to challenge him. In his own rough way, he was looking after her and she appreciated it.

"You could stay?" she offered.

"Better not."

He turned back when he reached the door, his face serious,

"Just so that you know... It's not because I don't care."

And then he was gone.

Alex was too tired to spend much time wondering about the meaning behind his words, but as she drifted off to sleep she was warmed by the fact that somewhere in this mixed up world, someone was taking care of her.